


like shining

by gabstar



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji Is So Done, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Public Displays of Affection, Sexual Tension, hand holding, the fukurodani third years are merciless and love seeing keiji flustered this just in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 10:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5159828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabstar/pseuds/gabstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi likes to consider himself a composed, rational human being. He can keep his hands and eyes to himself. He can control his hormonal, teenage impulses just fine. He even manages to keep the PDA to a minimum, even though his very attractive and very cuddly boyfriend makes it difficult. Akaashi makes a point to keep focused during practices and games. The last thing he needs is to get face-flushed and flirtatious during a match.</p><p>But that all goes out the window when Bokuto buys himself a new pair of gym shorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	like shining

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is dedicated to the animators who gave bokuto the greatest bubble butt of all time and made me write almost five thousand words because of it

Akaashi likes to consider himself a composed, rational human being. He can keep his hands and eyes to himself. He can control his hormonal, teenage impulses just fine. He even manages to keep the PDA to a minimum, even though his very attractive and very cuddly boyfriend makes it difficult. Akaashi makes a point to keep focused during practices and games. The last thing he needs is to get face-flushed and flirtatious during a match.

But that all goes out the window when Bokuto buys himself a new pair of gym shorts.

Were they tighter? Were they sitting differently on Bokuto’s hips? Had Bokuto undertaken a rigorous butt and thigh routine? Akaashi doesn’t know anything except that Bokuto’s ass looks fantastic and for the life of him Akaashi can’t stop staring.

It turns practices into a nightmare, honestly. Bokuto’s always crouching, bending over, stretching. Akaashi doesn’t know what he did to deserve this specialized kind of torture, but as Bokuto’s squats in preparation to jump, Akaashi looks to the ceiling and is very, _very_ sorry.

“Look out, Akaashi!”

For the second time today, Akaashi ducks just in time as a wayward serve swooshes by. It’s close enough to ruffle Akaashi’s dark curls and set off goosebumps along his skin.

“Sorry, Akaashi!” Konoha calls. “You alright?”

Konoha looks sheepish enough, even if he’s grinning. But Komi and Sarukui are shameless as they exchange glances and snort behind their palms. Akaashi bristles.

“I’m fine. Honest mistake,” Akaashi says lightly.

“I’ll pay better attention next time,” Konoha teases, glancing over at Bokuto and winking. Akaashi feels the blush tipping his ears.

Komi, still sniggering, adds, “Wouldn’t want you to fall _behind_.”

“Yeah,” Sarukui chimes in, his ever-smiling expression mischievous. “That’d be a dis- _ass_ -ter.”

They burst into wild, hooting laughter and Akaashi hurls a volleyball in their direction. It deflects off Sarukui’s stomach and only makes them cackle harder.

“Sorry, sorry,” Konoha tries, arms raised in surrender. “Mercy, Akaashi. Mercy!”

Akaashi’s whole body feels hot with embarrassment. He reaches for another volleyball but at that moment, their uproar catches Bokuto’s attention.

“Hey, hey, hey what’s the big joke?” Bokuto asks, hands on his hips. “Why aren’t you practicing your serves? We have a practice match against Nekoma this week. Do you want to lose?”

Komi’s still wiping tears from his eyes, but they comply, hustling to get back to their serve drills. Akaashi feels affection swoop in his belly.

Bokuto softens as he spots Akaashi walking over. “Hey, you.”

 _He’s so hot_ , Keiji thinks. All tall and broad and shining with a sheen of sweat. Akaashi grabs the front of Bokuto’s jersey, fully aware that they’re being watched, and kisses him deeply.

Bokuto humors him for a moment, then breaks away laughing. “Oho, so you do like it when I take charge,” he teases.

“Maybe a little,” Akaashi admits. He spares a glance to the cluster of teasing third years, who have mysteriously lost interest in watching. Akaashi slumps with relief. “Bokuto-san.”

“Mm?” Bokuto asks, tucking a curl behind Akaashi’s ear.

Akaashi means to say something like _you have to go back to your old shorts_ or please stop crouching when you talk to shorter first years but what blurts out is,

“Come over tonight.”

Bokuto blinks. “On a weekday?”

Akaashi nods, his hands and feet tingling with the thought. “My parents will be out late. Dinner party.”

Bokuto looks flushed, but pleased. “Alright.”

Akaashi has about two seconds to think his boyfriend is cool and attractive, walking away with that fantastic ass of his, before Bokuto turns back and whispers.

“That means you want to have sex, right?”

Akaashi punches him in the gut.

 

Akaashi’s toes curl. Bokuto gives out a stuttered gasp. Bokuto slumps on top of him heavily as they finish together and Akaashi wheezes under his weight.

“Sorry, sorry,” Bokuto pants. His arms tremble as he tries to roll off Keiji, and Keiji hooks his arms around him.

“No, no, don't move. Stay,” Akaashi says, holding Bokuto’s head to his chest. “It’s fine.”

Bokuto relaxes, letting Akaashi card through his hair. He kisses the skin above Akaashi's heart. “You were impatient today.”

It’s true. The sun’s barely setting and Akaashi’s parents have only been gone an hour. Akaashi would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so good post-cotial. Keiji kisses Bokuto’s forehead.

“You make me impatient.”

Bokuto snorts. “You say that a lot, but it’s not usually a compliment.”

Akaashi's laughter shakes them gently. He cups Bokuto’s face in his hand and kisses him again, deep and loving.

“It’s a compliment this time,” Akaashi promises.

Bokuto beams. “Good. You make me impatient too.”

Bokuto nuzzles into Akaashi’s neck and sighs. The hot breath hushing past Akaashi’s skin is enough to make him break out in goosebumps.

“That’s nice,” Akaashi says, voice soft. “Do that again.”

Bokuto snorts. “That? Really?”

Akaashi nods, pupils wide and serious. Bokuto exhales along his skin again, trailing from his neck to his nipple. Akaashi whines.

“What’s gotten into my Keiji?” Bokuto peppers kisses along his chest. “So needy.”

Akaashi shrugs. “I guess I like you or something.”

Bokuto grins. “I guess you do.”

They go back to kissing, unhurried and relaxed. Akaashi likes it best this way. He likes having his hands on those big shoulders, letting his face be cupped and kissed all over. He likes the way his chest flutters at the flush of tongue along his lower lip. He likes the stirring heat rising in his belly.

“Wait, wait,” Akaashi says, pushing Bokuto back as he tries to get heated again. “Let me throw our clothes into the laundry first.”

“Okay,” Bokuto murmurs, rolling off of him. “Do you need any help?”

“I think I can handle it,” Akaashi says, leaving him with a kiss to the nose. “Just stay there and don’t fall asleep on me.”

“I won’t!” Bokuto says, sitting up and suddenly defensive.

Akaashi struggles to suppress a smile. He gets to his feet, reaching for his dresser and tugging on a clean pair of briefs. He bends over to gather their discarded clothing and Bokuto whistles.

“You’re so sexy when you’re responsible,” Bokuto teases.

Akaashi throws a pair of dirty boxers his direction. “You’d be sexier if you were quiet.”

“You don’t mean that!”

Akaashi rolls his eyes and hoists Bokuto’s gym bag over his shoulder. Bokuto leaps to his feet, pecking Akaashi’s cheek as he walks by.

“I’ll be waiting for you in the shower,” Bokuto says.  

Akaashi _does_ smile at that, his skin is itching and desperate for a good long soak. Keiji crouches by his parents ancient washing machine and starts sorting out his and Bokuto’s whites. Socks, practice tees, and-- Akaashi gives the offending gym shorts a glare. This was all these stupid shorts’ fault. Akaashi couldn’t afford another practice like today, no matter how great the aftermath was.

Akaashi weighs his options. They were probably expensive, gym clothes were surprisingly not cheap. And Bokuto seems to really like the way they fit. However Akaashi shudders at the thought of Konoha’s knowing smirk, the way Komi and Saurkui just seemed to know what Akaashi was thinking.

He can always buy Bokuto new shorts.

 _For the good of the team_ , Akaashi thinks as he tosses in one red shirt with Bokuto’s white shorts and starts the wash cycle.

Bokuto will forgive him, Akaashi thinks as he walks into the shower. Bokuto greets him with a whine about his scratched-up back stinging and Akaashi apologizes with about a thousand small kisses. Bokuto always forgives him.

 

“Well,” Konoha says, almost sounding somber as Bokuto struts around in bright pink shorts. “It was a noble attempt.”

“Truly,” Sarukui agrees, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Tragic it didn’t work.”

Komi hasn’t stopped giggling since they walked in. It’s been ten minutes and he’s bright red, hunched over and hiccuping.

Akaashi nurses his bruised jaw. He can still feel the shape of the deflected block on his cheek in a wide, stinging circle.  Akaashi curses himself, he has good reflexes, this shouldn't have happened. He was just--well.

Bokuto does toe touches and Akaashi squirms with heat. He rubs at his cheek gingerly and tastes a rush of blood.

“And he doesn’t even notice either,” Konoha exchanges a glance with Sarukui and shakes his head. “Incredible.”

“He looks great,” Sarukui admits. “You’re a lucky man, Akaashi.”

Akaashi snorts, more in surprise than humor. Lucky? _Him?_ This was a disaster.

Akaashi’s plan backfired. Akaashi had shown Bokuto the pile of pinkened laundry and, instead of accepting Akaashi’s offer to buy him new shorts, Bokuto had told him that it was fine. Practice shorts didn’t need to be a specific color. Besides, Bokuto likes pink.

He likes pink. Of course he likes pink. Keiji’s utterly mortified.

“Don’t worry, Akaashi!” Konoha clasps Akaashi's shoulder. “Saru and I--”

Komi hiccups loudly.

“--And Komi. Would never let our favorite kouhai suffer.” Konoha says it kindly, but his smile is anything but sweet. “We’ll get him out of those shorts one way or another.”

 “One way or another,” Sarukui seconds, practically sparkling with a plan.

Akaashi watches Bokuto cheer on a first year who had successfully blocked one of Bokuto’s softer spikes. Bokuto wraps an arm around him, ruffling his hair. Akaashi’s chest tightens with affection.

Bokuto senses his gaze and turns. “Akaashi! Did you see? Did you see his block?”

“Good job,” Akaashi says, rewarding them both with a small smile.

Smiling was a mistake. Bokuto sees the blood on his teeth and panics.

“You’re bleeding! What happened? Who did this?” Bokuto’s hovering around him worriedly in his jittering, jumping way.

“You, in a way,” Komi manages to wheeze through his laughter. Konoha elbows him in the gut and Komi topples.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, just an accident,” Akaashi dismisses.

Bokuto cups the uninjured side of Akaashi’s face, soft and careful. “Let me see.”

Akaashi lets himself be cradled, wondering if he’ll ever get used to the way Bokuto touches him. Like he’s something precious. His hands tingle with the urge to touch him back.

Bokuto frowns. “You’re bruising.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” Akaashi lies, kissing Bokuto’s fingers before he pulls away. Bokuto shivers at the tease.

“Please stop, you’re going to make Washio sick,” Konoha interrupts, rubbing his temples in annoyance. Washio, who does indeed look sick, turns away and runs to the bathroom.

Bokuto grins. “Okay, okay, but first.”

He swoops in and pecks Akaashi's bruised jaw lightly.

“There, I kissed it better,” Bokuto says, beaming at Akaashi's rapidly reddening face.

Akaashi pushes him away. “Go make sure Washio isn’t dying.”

“You got it.” Bokuto jogs after Washio. “Hey, hey, hey get back here!”

Akaashi watches him go and immediately regrets it. He’s impossible to ignore, all pink, plump, and perky. If anything, the wash has shrunk those stupid shorts and Akaashi's helpless to every clench and jiggle.

Konoha and Sarukui join Komi’s endless giggling.

 

The practice match against Nekoma could not have been timed worse.

Bokuto is overly excited about it. He bounces as he gives the pre-game pep talk, revving them up with even more energy than usual. Kuroo always brings out the most competitive streaks in Bokuto, but today he's especially ansty. Akaashi recalls something vague about a bet and Bokuto’s honor being on the line, but the details are fuzzy.

“And keep hydrated! Don’t be that idiot who passes out halfway through a match,” Bokuto finishes and Akaashi nods, even though he was tuned out for most of it. As if he could focus when Bokuto kept shifting his weight from foot to foot like that.

“Alright, pair up and stretch!”

They break off, and Akaashi's glad. Konoha and Sarukui keep shooting him meaningful looks, like he's missed something, but Keiji doesn't know what.

“And you,” Bokuto adds, quieter, slinging an arm around Akaashi's shoulders. “Make sure you toss to me lots.”

“Don’t I toss to you enough already?” Akaashi asks, sneaking in a quick kiss to Bokuto’s jaw before shrugging him off. “Greedy.”

Bokuto grins, always thrilled with Akaashi's small affections. “I want to make sure Kuroo knows it’s my spikes that are taking his team down.”

“We’ll get him,” Akaashi promises. “Kuroo won’t know what hit him.”

Bokuto starts stretching, pulling his elbow to his chest, rolling out his big broad shoulders. Akaashi looks firmly away. Nekoma's on their side of the court and doing their own stretches. Kuroo keeps glancing over, waiting for Bokuto to catch his eye.

“Speaking of, Kuroo’s trying to get your attention,” Akaashi says.  

“Mm? Oh.” Bokuto brightens as he sees Kuroo. "Hey, Kuroo!”

"Hey, hot pants," Kuroo replies, his eagerness apparent. "What, can't do your own laundry right?"

Akaashi's ready to own the mistake, mouth already forming the words, but Bokuto cuts him off.

"Ha, yeah I guess I wasn't paying attention," Bokuto says, rubbing the back of his neck.

Akaashi wants to kiss him. Bokuto peeks at him and goes pink.

"Dork," Kuroo says with equal parts affection and exasperation.

"Anyway," Bokuto says, standing straight and confident. "You better stretch out really good, because I'll definitely be paying attention on the court today!"

Bokuto turns his back to Kuroo, and Akaashi sees the moment Kuroo- well- notices. Kuroo flushes red and fast.

“What?” Bokuto frowns at Akaashi in confusion. "What are you making that face for, Akaashi?"

"Nothing, it's nothing," Akaashi assures. Though Kuroo is eyeing him and gesturing to Bokuto furiously like _when did this happen?_

Akaashi shrugs, equally helpless.

"Let's finish stretching," he says, tugging on Bokuto's jersey. "If we hurry we can get in some spiking practice."

 

For any other star spiker, maybe showing him off pre-game would be a mistake. But as usual, Bokuto's the exception.

The one-on-one attention fuels Bokuto better than any pep talk could, He can never get enough of the rush a good spike gives him, and their gathering audience doesn't hurt either. Bokuto dazzles. His talent and wild energy both intimidate Nekoma and inspire their own team. Sarukui and Komi stop their stretching to cheer him on,  and Bokuto thrives off their praise.

"Hell yeah!" Bokuto shouts after another well-aimed spike. He's already sweating. "Did you see that, Akaashi?" 

Akaashi shrugs, unimpressed. "See if you can jump higher this time." 

"Got it," Bokuto says, gearing up for the next.

Kuroo huffs. "Tiring yourself out for us? Smart move."

Kuroo sounds confident, but his glance toward Akaashi gives him away. Even Kenma's bothered enough to start looking Bokuto's way. Akaashi smirks. 

He sends up another toss, high and fast. Bokuto's timing is perfect. He slams the ball onto the other side of the court with a thud so powerful Akaashi can feel it in the floor boards. 

"Nice one," Akaashi says and Bokuto whoops. 

"Too loud," Kenma complains. "The game hasn't even started yet." 

Bokuto's too busy beaming to care. "Another?" 

"Last one," Akaashi warns. "We have a match to play still." 

Bokuto nods, if a little disappointed. He kisses Akaashi's cheek in appreciation after the spike lands.

"Are you ready for the game?" Keiji asks, voice low and even.

Bokuto's fierce with determination. "Ready."

"Good." Akaashi's expression turns soft. "Come here."

Bokuto's all to eager to comply as he leans in and Akaashi kisses him tender. Bokuto is sweaty and way too revved for a proper kiss, but he's enthusiastic and it sort of makes up for it. Akaashi's smile is real under Bokuto's mouth.

They break apart, mostly due to Komi's whining. Akaashi shoots Kuroo and Kenma a pointed look. He sees something in Kenma's eyes shift, taking note.

"Akaashi?" Bokuto asks. "You okay?"

Akaashi blinks at him. "I'm fine."

Bokuto kisses Akaashi's nose. "You promise?"

"Promise," Akaashi repeats. "Let's kick Kuroo's ass."

 

The practice match starts and so far Akaashi's plan is working. All of Nekoma's attention is on Bokuto, marked with Akaashi's kiss. Kenma has had time to spread word that Akaashi favors Bokuto, and to watch him carefully.

And at first, Akaashi indulges that notion, sending a couple tosses his way. But they're met with heavy blocks and Bokuto's scowling as Nekoma takes an early lead.

It's a risk, Akaashi knows. But he's hoping it will pay off.

"Don't mind," Akaashi says. "We'll get them."

Akaashi can see the cracks in Bokuto's confidence. Akaashi tried to arm him with he sling of successful spikes before the match, but even that might not be enough to keep him buoyant.

"Bokuto-san, it's okay," Akaashi repeats. "You can get past blockers."

That seems to help. Bokuto shakes out his shoulders.

"Yeah," Bokuto says. "Yeah, you're right."

Akaashi glances at Sarukui and Konoha, and Bokuto understands. They have a team to support.

Bokuto puts his hands on his hips. "Keep on, blockin' me, Kuroo. I'm not afraid of a challenge."

Akaashi's counting on Kenma underestimating Bokuto's intelligence, to overestimate his pride as the ace. That Bokuto would never take a backseat to let someone else shine.

But he does. The game shifts and Akaashi takes a sharp turn in preference. He relies on Sarukui and Konoha's speed to score, while Bokuto makes an efficient decoy. His dramatic flair comes in handy when trying to evade Kenma's quick observations.

It works. Akaashi's flushed with his own cleverness as they take the first set. Nekoma didn't even break twenty points.

"Good tosses, Akaashi!" Bokuto claps him on the back and Akaashi chokes on his water bottle.

"Softer," he lectures, coughing.

"Right, right," Bokuto says. "Can we do more me, this time?"

Akaashi blooms pink. "Watch your phrasing, Bokuto-san."

"Oho, so naughty, Akaashi," Bokuto teases, burying a kiss into Akaashi's curls. Konoha makes a gagging noise.

The second set is harder. ( _Phrasing_ , Akaashi scolds himself). Nekoma has the advantage of seeking redemption, and Fukurodani can't afford to get complacent. Akaashi has no choice but to concentrate on Bokuto now.

Unfortunately Bokuto’s just so _distracting_.

His stupid new shorts, his stupid bright eyes and stupid broad shoulders. Akaashi watches the way his leg muscles clench before a jump, how his forearms stretch for a spike. He’s a sight on the court, for all the bumbling child he can be, here he is fluid and focused.

Akaashi's never wanted to be on the sidelines, but for a moment he imagines it. He imagines watching Bokuto’s body move like the game carries him, the constant motion of him. Like he moves first and thinks second. Which, he probably does, come to think of it.

“Akaashi!” Komi yells.

Akaashi lurches in surprise, the ball hurtling towards him. Akaashi only manages to get into position to toss at the last second.

Bokuto spikes it anyway. Bokuto always makes the best out of whatever Akaashi gives him and this time is no exception. The point lands and Akaashi sighs in relief.

Komi’s still on his belly from his receive and he’s giving Akaashi a fierce look. “Focus, Akaashi-kun!"

“Sorry, Komi-san.” Akaashi's breathless, shocked at his own slip up. “I’ll be more alert.”

They lose the second set. Akaashi bites down curses.

The final set is tense. The whole team can feel Bokuto's energy becoming restless, frustrated. Onaga and Washio's shoulders are square and stiff in preparation. Konoha and Sarukui slink at opposite sides of the court, checking Akaashi for hints for who's next to spike.

For Fukurodani, all victories are worthwhile. And every loss counts. They need this win, they need this momentum. Akaashi shakes his head like it can shake off the daze. They can still win if he just focuses.

Akaashi can feel Kenma watching him. His steady gaze makes Akaashi's skin crawl.

Despite his refound concentration, Akaashi's still struggling. Nekoma's adopted a new strategy with a heavy offense. A heavy offense that seems to be targeting Akaashi. He's under a barrage of aimed spikes and serves. Akaashi's never been forced to do so many receives since before he became Fukurodani's official setter. Konoha's quickly filling in his role as their back up setter, but his options are limited.

Akaashi's knees are pink and purple and he regrets not wearing knee pads. Kenma refuses to meet his gaze.

Akaashi struggles to his feet after a hard spike. Sarukui grasps his elbow and helps him up.

Sarukui looks wrong scowling like that. "You're shaking."

Akaashi grits his teeth. "I'm fine."

He refuses to be a weak spot. He'll receive every single shot taken at him.

Akaashi purposely ignores Bokuto's worried gaze.

"Watch out!"

Akaashi isn't fast enough. Kuroo's spike smacks into Akaashi's chest, sending him stumbling back a few paces. He's gasping, he can't breathe.

The whistle blows, shrill and angry.

“That was on purpose!” Bokuto shouts. He wraps an arm around Akaashi, keeping him standing. “What the hell are you doing, Kuroo?”

“Bokuto-san, calm down,” Akaashi asks, voice weak, rubbing  the bruise blooming across his chest.

Kuroo looks taken back. “I--I’m sorry. I didn’t mean--”

"You aimed right for him!" Bokuto yells.

"I'm sorry." Kuroo looks at Akaashi. "Akaashi, I'm sorry." 

Bokuto ignores him and looks at Akaashi instead. “Are you okay?”

Akaashi nods, but he can’t help but feel a little shaken. Of all the mood swings Akaashi's witnessed, he’s never seen Bokuto seriously, severely angry. Not like this. It’s never occurred to Akaashi that Bokuto might be scary if he ever used his bulk for anything other than volleyball.

Kuroo’s still fumbling with apologies and Bokuto's anger dissipates as he sees Akaashi's not too seriously hurt. He kisses Akaashi's bruised chest briefly.

“What’s with you getting all banged up this week, Keiji?” Bokuto mutters.

Akaashi offers a weak smile. "Phrasing."

They try to go back to normal. Akaashi accepting all of Kuroo's apologies and Bokuto attempting to laugh it off, but it's different now. The air is laced with a kind of tight, trembling pressure. Akaashi feels the team quiet as Konoha goes up to serve, waiting.

Keiji's sore, shivering, but steeled. He's not losing this. Not now.

The energy only heightens. Fukurodani's narrowed Nekoma's lead to a point, match point. Akaashi can feel his breath rattling in his chest. They’re so close. _So close_. He knows his team can feel it too. They need this win. Akaashi needs this redemption.

 _Focus, focus_ , Akaashi's glancing around the court. It’s Kuroo’s serve. Who is he going to aim for? Not for Akaashi, Kuroo wouldn’t risk Bokuto's rage a second time. And he wouldn’t be bold enough to call out their libero either, not this late in the game. Who is he going to aim for? _Just one more point._

Bokuto turns that blazing gaze on Akaashi. He’s glowing. Everything, from the whites of his hair and the gold of his eyes, the sparkle of sweat on his skin, makes him shine. Akaashi's breathless as the serve goes up.

It happens in slow motion for Akaashi. He sees Bokuto, radiant and impossible to ignore, and of course. Who else would Kuroo aim for?

“Komi, left!” Akaashi shouts.

Komi connects, diving on his belly for it, the ball going up in an arc.

“Akaashi!”

Akaashi responds without thinking. “Bokuto-san!”

And just like that it’s over. It never fails to astound Akaashi how quickly it can be over.

The whistle blows and they won. They won.

Akaashi slumps over in relief, hands on his knees, his whole body awash in victory so sweet it almost burns. They did it. They pulled through. Bokuto’s shouting. Konoha is hauling Komi to his feet. Sarukui’s whooping excitedly, smashing Washio and Onaga together in a hug.

Bokuto’s beaming, as their attention turns to him. Konoha nearly tackles Bokuto in congratulations. Sarukui and Komi joining in, jumping at him at full force. Literally trying to bury him in affection. Ruffling his hair, tugging on his jersey, clinging to him.

“Nice kill, captain!”

“That’s our ace!”

Bokuto laughs and somehow stays sturdy, handling all three of them even as they try to clamor on top of him. He reigns them in with his big arms and squeezes.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Komi wheezes. “Enough love, I’ve had enough love!”

“God, Bokuto how often are you doing arm day?” Sarukui asks as Bokuto releases them. “I think you gave me bruises!”

Bokuto looks smug  “Oh you know, every once in awhile.”

He flexes to uproarious applause. Akaashi's knees are weak.

Konoha glances at Akaashi and laughs. “Careful, Bokuto you’re going to give Akaashi-kun a nosebleed.”

Akaashi's fully prepared to say something sharp and defensive about giving Konoha a nosebleed instead, but that all goes away when he sees Bokuto’s expression.

Hopeful, alight, _shining_. Suddenly Akaashi doesn’t care about anything. Not Konoha, not Nekoma, not about nosebleeds or pink shorts or winning points or bruises or anything.

Akaashi’s running, reaching for him and Bokuto’s reaching back. Bokuto sweeps Akaashi into his arms, burying his face in his belly and kissing into his jersey.

Akaashi’s stomach clenches. “Bokuto-san!”

Bokuto spins him around, kisses trailing up his chest to his face. “Did you see that? Did you see? Did you see my spike?”

“I saw, I saw.” Akaashi laughs under the barrage of affection. “You were amazing.”

Bokuto finds his mouth and kisses him with vigor, only parting when Kuroo interrupts.

“Alright, alright lovebirds, knock it off,” Kuroo says. “You won, we get it.”

Akaashi swallows and hides in Bokuto's shoulder, embarrassed.  Bokuto sets Akaashi back on his feet and Akaashi's glad he looks just as abashed as Akaashi feels.

“Alright, hand them over,” Kuroo says, one hand on his hip.

Bokuto seems confused for a moment, then, “Oh! Right! I can’t give them to you now, I’m wearing them.”

Kuroo looks like he’s been punched in the gut. He retracts his hand in horror. “Wait, _those?_ I can’t wear those for a week!”

Akaashi frowns. “What’s going on?”

“I told you about the bet,” Bokuto reminds, looking a little hurt that Akaashi didn’t remember. “If we lost I’d have to do my hair like his for a week and if he lost he has to wear my pink shorts.”

“You didn’t say they were pink!” Kuroo gapes. “You said they were lucky!”

Bokuto laughs sheepishly. “They can be both?”

Akaashi blinks at Bokuto. He’s trying to imagine him with Kuroo’s hairstyle and is intensely grateful they won all over again. Akaashi kisses the tips Bokuto’s owl horns briefly. Somewhere along the line Akaashi's gotten attached to them.

“You can’t back out now! You promised!” Bokuto cries.

“I can’t wear those, I’ll look ridiculous!” Kuroo retorts, hands on hips.

“You always look ridiculous,” Kenma sighs like demoralizing Kuroo is a chore for him. “Can we argue about this while cleaning up? I want to go home.”

And that they do. Bokuto and Kuroo ram the volleyball carriage into each other’s shins and try to tangle each other up in the nets. Akaashi's too pleased with the win to intervene. He’s even humming a little as he and Kenma sweep the court clean.

Eventually Kuroo surrenders to his fate. Bokuto hands over the shorts after they change back into the school uniforms and Kuroo makes a face.

“Still warm,” he says, dropping them in his gym back gingerly.

“Have a great week!” Bokuto grins, smacking Kuroo on the back.

Nekoma piles onto their bus, even if it isn’t a long ride back to their school. Kuroo sticks out his tongue through the window and Kenma pinches his ear, reprimanding.

Akaashi waves them off and feels a heavy arm slump around his shoulders. He turns, expecting Bokuto and jumps a little at how close Sarukui is to him.

“See, I told you we’d get rid of those shorts for you,” Sarukui says, grinning.

“One way or another,” Konoha adds, chest puffed out in pride.

“Good work,” Akaashi says, feeling unusually indulgent. “How long did it it take to convince him? Five? Ten minutes?”

“Less than that, Bokuto’s always up for humiliating Kuroo,” Sarukui says breezily.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Konoha says.

Akaashi feels Bokuto before he hears him. Sarukui retracting quickly as Bokuto wastes no time wrapping Akaashi in a full embrace

“Good game today.” Bokuto says as Akaashi hooks an arm around his waist and leans his head on his shoulder. “All of you.”

“God, we really need to get you two a shock collar or something,” Konoha says. “I don’t know how much more of this I can handle.”

Sarukui gets a wicked look on his face. “Hey, Konoha-kun, let’s make out and see how they like it.”

Konoha’s cheeks burst pink, but he laughs and kicks Sarukui's shins. “Sh-shut up, man.

Komi bolts out of the locker room, Washio and Onaga trailing behind him. “Hey, I’m ready, we can tell Akaashi about the bet now I--”

Komi glances between the four of them and his jaw drops. “ _You told him without me?_ ”

Konoha and Sarukui make a run for it, which is probably the wrong decision considering Komi is the fastest on the team. Keiji winces as Komi shouts insults, eventually hooking onto Sarukui’s leg and toppling him to the ground.

Bokuto shakes his head, watching Onaga and Washio walk off in the other direction. "What was that all about?"

Keiji feigns innocence. "No idea."

Bokuto shrugs, shifting topic. "How's your chest?"

"Fine," Keiji says, though it aches still. "Hurts."

Bokuto hums, thoughtful. "Nothing ice couldn't fix?"

Keiji nods as they head home, still arm in arm. "That would help."

"Mmm what about ice cream? Would that help?" Bokuto tries.

Keiji snorts. "Are you offering to treat me?"

Bokuto's laugh rumbles them both. "You played well today."

Keiji kicks his ankle. "What am I, five?"

"Well, no," Bokuto says. "Especially since you've been staring at my ass all week. Nothing five-year-old like about that."

Bokuto says it rushed, like he's been holding it in all week and dying just to say it. Keiji freezes, horrified. "What?"

Bokuto's grinning, trying to hide it behind his hand. Keiji punches his shoulder.

"You _kn_ _ew?_ "

"What? You thought I didn't notice you _appreciating?_ " Bokuto asks, waggling his eyebrows.

Keiji shoves him away, jabbing him in the ribs. "And you didn't do _anything about it?_ "

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bokuto says, clearly not sorry. "It was cute."

Keiji's going to bust a blood vessel. " _Cute?_ "

"That's why they're lucky!" Bokuto cries, backing away, hands raised in surrender. "You noticed me all week! It was nice, okay?"

Keiji's flabbergasted. "Noticed you? I'm _always_ noticing you! You're my boyfriend!"

"Yeah, but it's different!" Bokuto says. "You're so pretty, Keiji. I'm always the one staring at you! It was- it was nice, being the one looked at."

Bokuto's face turns bashful. Keiji's wrestling with himself, fighting to stay mad, but it's hard when Bokuto's looking at him like that. Expectantly, bare with honesty. 

"You're ridiculous, you know that right?" Akaashi huffs, folding his arms across his chest. "Absolutely ridiculous. I notice- of course I notice you. You're the star of the team. The captain, the ace, and you're- you are-" _Why is this so hard?_ "-very handsome. I find you very handsome I-"

He stops when he notices Bokuto's quiet laughter. 

"Stop that!" Akaashi bats him across the chest. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Bokuto echos again, catching Akaashi's hands in his own. He kisses them both, finding the little bruises on the tips of Akaashi's fingers. "God, I haven't seen you blush this much since you confessed." 

Akaashi feels himself go tender at the memory. A rushed, spur of the moment thing. "What an awful confession," he grumbles. 

"No, it was perfect," Bokuto says, his kisses gliding to Akaashi's veiny, pale wrists. "You're perfect." 

Akaashi feels like aching. He finds their fingers interlocking, slowly heading home again. "You're exaggerating again." 

"No I'm not!" Bokuto insists. "It was! You were so cute and shy." 

"It was in the locker room," Akaashi says flatly. "I hadn't even showered." 

"I hadn't either! That's how I knew you meant it," Bokuto says. "What do they say about that? Love is blind?" 

Akaashi snorts. "Not quite, Koutarou." 

Bokuto tries to remember, and shrugs it off. "Well if you hated your first confession so much, maybe we should try again."

"Try again?"

Bokuto brightens at the idea. "Yeah! It'll be my turn this time, I'll go buy flowers. I'll write you a sonnet!"

Akaashi laughs. "A sonnet? You don't know anything about poetry." 

"I can learn!" Bokuto says defensively. "I'll give you the greatest confession of all time."

Akaashi shakes his head though he's amused. "That's a tall order." 

"You're worth it," Bokuto says with absolute confidence. "I promise, you're worth it."

Bokuto kisses him once more, soft. 

And Akaashi feels like shining.

 

**Author's Note:**

> halfway through the week akaashi gets a call from kenma because mysteriously those pink shorts were set on fire?? it was maybe an accident?? who knows 
> 
> ((i'm cutiekeiji on tumblr if you want to say hi!))


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